THE FOOTSTEPS OF EVIL

CHAPTER 7 Information

Arc sat cross-legged at the campfire, his chin resting on his laced fingers, his eyes engrossed in the fire. To his left, Jorg and Telin reclined together chatting, Jorg still holding a roasted chicken leg. Arc brooded, deep in thought. He had managed to reach Tristram, impossibly, and he still hadn't found what he had been looking for. The burnt out wreckage of a town held none of the answers he sought. He tried to rationalize to himself that he had always thought possible, even expected that this would happened, that there would be nothing in Tristram worth anything to him, but it seemed that his hopes had painted a false illusion for him.

He had had such hopes that Tristram would be the end of the road for him, that he could put his worries to rest there, that these hopes started to become reality for him. He had imagined the positive outcome of reaching the town so much that he knew no negative outcome. To have this suddenly come . . . he didn't know what to do now.

Had Arc turned his head or looked at anything other than the fire, he would have noticed that his companions glanced his way with worried looks every so often. Telindhra's eyes, especially, were constantly drawn to the silent swordsman.

A tap on his shoulder broke Arc's reverie. There stood Deckard Cain, who had tapped him with his staff, and behind him stood Akara, high priestess of the Rogues. Cain motioned for him to stand and follow him. Intrigued, Arc stood to follow the old man as they walked.

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"Where are they going?" Jorg asked Akara, motioning the old man and the young swordsman as the walked off into the night.

"Arc has been trying to make his way to Tristram for a while now. Tristram is destroyed. Now his only link to that which he seeks is that old man." Akara answered. "Perhaps he has what is sought."

Jorg shrugged, and nodded. He knew well that a man's secrets were his own. "So what's this all been about then?"

"What do you mean?" Akara asked.

Telindhra laughed. "We have been discussing it. Apparently Jorg likes to know why when he risks his life. Nothing at all like the stories we get of Barbarians. I was under the impression you didn't even need reasons, let alone know them."

Grinning, Jorg said, "True, it's usually Arc's kind that need reasons and meanings for everything."

"What do you mean?" Telin asked, intrigued.

"Well, you know," Jorg said with a shrug, "What is the meaning of life, for existence? All that stuff. What is the nature of evil and good? Not to mention the vaunted Creed to live by 'No weapon drawn in anger, no life taken lightly, no judgement made untruly, always to serve, now and forever'"

Telindhra's face was still incomprehensive. With a puzzled glance, Jorg continued, "You have never heard it? It is the Creed of the Paladins"

Telindhra's eyes went wide with shock. "A Paladin? Are you sure?" The Paladins were a small sect of warrior-monks famed for their religious zeal and their adherence to a strict code of honor. They were also famous for their mystical practices, claiming that through practicing advanced meditation combined with religious insight, they were able to harness the power of their own life energy to serve themselves and effect those around them.

"Paladins are the only ones who use Auras like him." Jorg shrugged. "Even tribes people such as I have heard of them. I'm surprised you haven not.

"Of course I've heard of them" Telindhra retorted. She turned to Akara "Did you know about this?"

"I suspected." Akara said serenely, ignoring Telindhra's furious glare. "I suspected from the description of the Auras he used in battle. But I could not be certain that it was not just a spell. And his privacy is his own."

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"I know who you are." Deckard Cain stated. He kept walking, face serenely forward as Arc stopped walking in shock.

"You do? So then you know . . ." Arc said as he stepped quickly to catch up.

"Yes, I do. And I have the information that you must be looking for." Deckard Cain stopped, and hesitated in continuing.

Arc came to stand in front of him. Grasping the old man by the shoulders, he said "Tell me. Please."

"Very well. This news, however, will not be good . . ."

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Telindhra sat, slightly shaking her head in disbelief, "And to think of all the times I called him a lowdown sellsword . . . "

At the sound of footsteps, they all looked up. Arc was stalking passed the campfire and into the night, his face a stony mask, barely covering the pain within.

rom the other direction, Deckard Cain approached. "Leave him be. He will need time to absorb it." Sitting down by the fire, he said. "You should all get some rest. We," he indicated Akara and himself, "will not share what we discussed and decided tonight. We shall wait until morning, with Arc present. It will concern him to."

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Arc stood on the crude wooden battlement of the camp, leaning on the lip of the wall, staring out over the plains. At the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs, he turned and started away.

"Wait." Telin called. Arc slowed for a second, then started walking off faster. "Arc, wait, please." This time he slowed. He turned, and again started staring at the plains.

She walked up, and leant out beside him. They were silent for a long time. "Are you alright?" She asked cautiously.

There was a pause before he answered. "I'm fine." He said, his voice wavering slightly.

She nodded. "Was it . . . a girl? In Tristram?" There was another long pause before he shook his head. "Family." He replied.

She nodded again, her heart going out to him. Again they stood together for a long time, just silent.

Finally she couldn't help it. "So you really are a paladin then." It was a statement, not a question.

He nodded a yes. "Huh." She said. There was another long pause before. "So all those lowdown mercenary things were really kinda offensive then."

He snorted. Then he started to laugh. It started as a normal chuckle, then moved into a laugh. Then it became hysterical before moving into tears. She turned him around and hugged him fiercely, giving all the comfort she could.

Finally, they disengaged, and she knew she had to leave him alone. He needed time to figure things out for himself.

After she had left, Arc stood there and just thought. Soon he knew what he had to do.

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The next morning they all assembled in Akara's tent. Arc's eyes were a little red, but he looked eager to listen and hear what would be the Rogues' next move.

Deckard Cain started his tale. "Tristram was an ordinary town for a long time. The people were ordinary, and it was a quiet place where little of import happened. Not too long ago, though, things started getting worse. Evil doings began to occur. People started fearing things, each other. Something was wrong. Diablo, Lord of Terror, Third of the Prime Evils, trapped within a Soul Stone in the labyrinth under the town, had begun to stretch out his evil presence to the town. Even the King, Leoric, fell under the spell."

"When we thought all was lost, a Hero arrived from the east. He called himself Fionor. The Hero ventured down the labyrinth, defeating Diablo's minions, one after the other, until finally he confronted the Lord of Terror himself."

Cain paused him his story, looking over each of the people within the tent, from Arc to Kashya. "He defeated him."

There was disbelief throughout the tent at this statement. "He defeated Diablo himself?" Jorg asked. Cain nodded.

Furrowing her brow, Kashya ventured. "So Diablo is dead then? He killed Diablo?"

"No." Cain answered, shaking his head sadly. "Diablo's essence is forever trapped within the Soul Stone. Killing his body will only destroy the current incarnation. The spirit of Diablo will live on."

"And so it was, he had defeated Diablo, yet the Soul Stone was still there, and the Hero Fionor could feel his evil spreading. So he did the only thing he could."

There was another pause as Cain sighed in sorrow. "He embedded the Soul Stone in his own forehead." The shock was palpable within the tent. "In order to attempt to stop the evil from spreading and consuming the town, he took the evil within himself, hoping he could stem the spread long enough for us to find a way to destroy the Stone, and Diablo with it."

"So where is he now?" Telindhra asked.

"He is gone. Soon after defeating Diablo, during our celebrations, he vanished. I can only assume based on our conversations prior to this, that he has left, heading East to search the civilized world for a way to destroy the demon that has already begun infesting his own soul."

"He's losing then," Kashya stated bluntly. "He has become the Dark Wanderer, the man who has evil travelling in his footsteps. Diablo has risen again, this time wearing the face of he who slew him."

Cain nodded his head in agreement. "That is what I fear."

"My course is clear." Arc said. All heads turned towards him. For most, this was the first words they had heard him speak since Tristram. "I will . . . I must follow this Dark Wanderer. And I will kill him. For the sake of his own soul, and ours."

"You say he heads east?" Jorg asked, "My course, too lies East, towards Lut Gholien. So my path will lie with yours, friend Arc, at least until then."

"I'm going with you too." Telindhra volunteered. Arc looked at her. "What of your duties as a Rogue?"

"For the moment her duties as a Rogue coincide with your intentions." Akara said.

"Indeed." Agreed Cain. "Whether the Hero has become Diablo, or if the soul of the demon works independently with the Fionor, Diablo had left someone to guard his back. You will not be able to follow him until you defeat Andariel, the demoness that Diablo had stationed to guard the roads to the East. She is also the source of much of the evil here."

"Fine." Arc agreed coldly. "We kill Andariel, then we follow the Dark Wanderer."